


Trek Down the Path of Nightmares

by TekkyTechnician



Series: Tales of Ea the Toe Nibbler [1]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), heroes & halfwits
Genre: Gen, Injury Recovery, Minor Violence, Warlock - Freeform, character backstory, daemon attack
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-28
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-10-18 05:13:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17574551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TekkyTechnician/pseuds/TekkyTechnician
Summary: Ea is a simple girl. She plays her lute for those who pay, and tries to earn enough gold to eat and survive. A wizard meddles in the affairs of daemons, and Ea is caught in the crossfire. Suddenly her life as an entertainer comes to an abrupt halt. Living a life in a nightmare, Nidhogg worms her way into her consciousness, finding a hold in her pain. Ea's story is getting pulled down a new path, one of glory or pain has yet to be told.





	1. Balor Attack

The ground shook, and for a moment silence. A silence that seemed to drag on for eternity. In a crash the wall of the tavern cracked. The windows shattered and flames wove in. Ea shrieked as she was knocked from her stool, and winced as her lute cracked against the ground. She grabbed her instrument and began checking it for damage when a roar echoed through the building. “Marek, son of Gwenda! Cormanda has ordered your death! Face me, and I shall burn this entire village to the ground!”   
A rough hand grabbed her by the shoulder and pulled her to her feet. “Get out of here now!” A giant orcish woman shoved her toward the bar. In one hand she held a massive maul, and with two extra musclebound arms, which protruded from her shoulders, she was pulling her rough greying hair into a ponytail.   
“Aren’t you coming?” She just scowled, and drew two falchions from their sheaths. Ea stumbled as she pushed her toward the door, before a wave of energy rippled over her and she sprinted toward the entrance to the tavern, and smashed through the door. A soft hand grabbed her arm, as the portly tavern owner pulled her along.   
“Come along sweety, we have to get away from here,” and she pulled her into the kitchen. Behind her she heard the orcish woman screaming in a rage. The owner pulled her into the back alley behind the tavern, and she pulled away from her grip. She pulled the strap of her lute over her head and bolted down the alley, her hooves digging into the packed dirt. A loud screech dropped her to her knees, and she turned to see a vrock tearing into the tavern owner. The gruesome sight gave her legs newfound energy, and she took off running faster than she had ever before.   
Magical energy reverberated through the village, whatever was going on, she wanted as far away as possible. She turned a corner, and a tall elvish man in robes kneeled in the street. With a crack a fireball erupted before them, and she skidded to a halt. Out of the flames came a sword cackling in lightning, and impaled the man through the chest. He made no sound, he was likely almost dead already. Great wings beat away the fire, and a voice chanted in what she barely recognized as abyssal tongue. Yet somehow she could understand the words. “Marek, for crimes against the daemon lord Cormanda, you life is forfeit.” Ea began shuffling backward, and the great daemon turned to look at her. He sniffed as a tendril of flame snaked its way toward her. She screamed as burning pain seared her face, and a heavy thud slammed into her chest. Blood stung in her eyes, and the world faded into darkness.


	2. First Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ea awakens having escaped the Balor. Everything hurts and it's really hard to think. She survived, but at what cost?

She woke to her horns rattling against wooden planks. Her body ached and she was being jostled around. She groaned, but lips wouldn’t open. Her eye flew open and she tried to move but her hands were bound. She struggled against her restraints when an elderly human face appeared before her. “Calm down child you’re going to be quite alright.” He pressed his hand against her head, gentle but firm. “If you relax, I’ll be happy to untie you, but you’re badly injured and we can’t have you hurting yourself any more.” She tried to speak but her mouth wouldn’t open properly. Without any other choice she laid back and did her best to relax. The old man spoke in the same gentle voice as he worked on the ropes around her arms. “Now your face is heavily bandaged, so no clawing at those. Also your leg is broken. We were able to set the bone, but no walking for a while, alright?”  
She lifted her arms and gently brushed her face. She winced at the pressure, burning pain shot through her face. Most of the right side of her head was wrapped in bandages, and it felt like there were several layers. The bandages also covered her mouth, which would explain why she couldn’t speak. “If you’ll let me I do believe the bleeding has stopped enough for me to remove the bandages on your mouth. Sadly, we don’t have a cleric here to cure your wounds, but we stitched you up as well as we could. She moved her leg and cried out as pain shot up her calf. “Unfortunately your hoof was all smashed, but the foot looks like it’ll survive.” Several sets of hands grabbed her and lifted her into a seat on the cart.  
The old man began removing the bandages on her mouth. “Don’t worry too much, it’ll fall off and grow back eventually.” She winced as she spoke, her lips were on fire. She was speaking infernal, but couldn’t remember the words in common, so she looked around instead. The orcish woman lie in the cart, her torso and arms heavily bandaged. Her chest heaved slowly.  
“She was carrying you. Insisted we take care of you before her. She wouldn’t leave your side. Of course we weren’t going to let her die any more than you, if we could help it.” She groaned and fidgeted in her sleep, and Ea turned to look behind them, a column of black smoke snaked into the sky. She leaned back against the rail of the cart, and drifted into a trance, not quite awake, but not quite asleep.  
“Tmyry vory zmulqw zmiz miflz haf.” She stood on a great root. Before her rose the trunk of a mighty tree which stretched to the heavens. Beneath her she could feel malice and terror, as a stench of rotten flesh assaulted her senses. She tentatively looked down, and a large black serpent coiled around her ankles. “Allow me to alleviate your fears.”


	3. Recuperation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ea's still groggy. She's hurt worse than she thought, but she gets to know her savior a little better on the way to the next town.

Ea stirred in the cart. He throat itched and scratched. “Sizyr, tze,” she racked her brain for the words.  
The orc woman reached over and handed her the water skin. “I know a little infernal.” she said. Ea pressed the opening to her lips, careful to keep it away from the cut. Still some water splashed on her face. “I’m Orma by the way. Good to meet you.”  
“Ea Xe ep.” she said, and turned back to look behind them. The smoke had gone from a column to a thick haze in the background. “Qaulq smyry za?”  
“We’re going to a small town near Baldur’s gate.” She turned to the old man, “Where are we going again?.” Ea slowly checked over herself as they spoke. Her right hand was bandaged heavily. The first two fingers stuck out, but the third and her pinkie were wrapped in a mass of cloth. Her left pant leg was cut off above the knee, wrapped tightly in bandages. She could feel the wooden rod they had used to set the bone pressing painfully into her leg. Somehow her right leg didn’t hurt at all. She tried to breathe deeply, but coughed as a searing pain ran through her chest. “Oh, yeah sorry about that,” Orma said, “that was my fault. I may have broken a few ribs when I grabbed you.” Ea rubbed her side and nodded, silently.  
“Daulq zmyry smiz syry haf?”  
“That guy, Marek, he like royally pissed off some Chernabog demon dude, and the Chernabog dude wanted to kill him. But now Marek’s family really wasn’t happy with the idea of him being dead, and they hired me to go find him and try and take him to Ribcage, where he would be safer. But obviously that didn’t last very long.” She laughed, how could she stay so peppy in a time like this. Ea noticed her hands looked like they were made from silver. She pointed. “Oh these, yeah don’t get your fingers trapped in a door, it really doesn’t go well.” She looked at Ea’s hand, “yeah, you won’t be able to count to ten anymore, sorry. But you still have your pinkie so you can still be super fancy when you’re drinking.”  
The rest of the trip took place with Ea drifting in and out of consciousness, Orma happily chattering away, about her various adventures. Two days later they finally arrived in the town. The caravan made it’s way to the temple. Orma picked up Ea, effortlessly and carried her inside the relatively simple building. The two priestesses were already buisily tending to the other refugees. “Hey!” Orma shouted, “she needs looking after too.” She set Ea gently on a bench and an older halfling woman in plain clothes walked over. “She’s got a broken leg, broken ribs, no finger, and a really bad cut on her face.”  
“My gods,” she gasped. Ea winced as she poked and prodded her body in varous spots. “Wolmae, come here, she need you.” She left and took the place of the tall half-elf woman tending to a young boy.  
Wolmae walked over, “Ok this should help a little,” and began chanting, placing her hands on Ea’s chest and forhead. As she spoke, the pain in her face and hand eased, and her breath came easier.. Wolmae seemed to age several years though, and stumbled slightly, Orma wrapped her lage arms around her waist.  
“I’ve got you, are you ok?” she asked.  
“I’m just, I’m sorry, I can’t heal you any more than that, I need to help everyone else.”  
“Omar is the leader of our caravan,” Orma pointed to the old man limping over to them. “He can help you know what you need to know.”  
“Thank you very much.” She adressed Ea, “You should be able to take the bandages off your face and hand now, but your bones won’t be fully healed so you’ll need to take it easy for a while.”  
“Thank you.” She could think much more clearly now.  
“Ok, let’s see the damage.” Orma began gently removing the bandages around her face. Her hair, matted with blood, pulled as it stuck to the cloth, but she stayed still. “Oh, my, that is absolutely epic. You’re going to have a badass scar.”  
“I need a bath.” She started undoing the wraps on her hand. Blood stuck to her knuckles, and the fresh skin stung, to the touch. Her third finger stopped at the end of the first joint, and her pinkie bent off at a weird angle.  
Orma took her hand gently. “I can fix your finger, but it’s gonna hurt like a bitch.”  
“Everything hurts right now, what’s a little -” she yelped in pain as Orma popped the knuckle straight with a loud crack. “Hey, do y’all have any splints?” Wolmae motioned to some small baskets on the far side of the hall. “Thanks!” A few minutes later her finger was strapped to the small rod and Orma was off helping construct some makeshift bathing huts in the alley.


End file.
